


Under The Mistletoe

by SpoonerGirl1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoonerGirl1/pseuds/SpoonerGirl1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas meet for the first time at a business holiday party after noticing one another in the building for weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> My sister and I challenged each other to write a Christmas-themed, short, Destiel fluff in under 2500 words. This is my attempt.

Friday evening, 5:00 P.M.

Castiel Novak, a certified public accountant with the Bradbury Consulting Group, located on the top floor of the Singer Business Center, couldn't understand why everyone was so excited for the building-wide holiday party. Not that he didn't like the holidays - he loved them. He just didn't want to spend a night trapped in the first floor warehouse with his coworkers and a bunch of people from the other offices in the building that he didn't care to know, eating reheated, catered finger foods and awkwardly trying to make small talk while everyone around him got wasted and made fools of themselves. No, Castiel would rather go home to his cat, Honey Bee, open a bottle of wine, and relax with a pb&j and some Netflix. He let his gaze linger over the joyfully decorated office, from the Christmas tree in the corner to the snowflakes hung from the ceiling, to the red and green garland around the cubicles. He sighed, enjoying the decor, as bits of conversation in the almost empty office floated over to his desk.

"Oh my god, did you see the new guy from the warehouse yet? He's super yummy."

"He's the new manager down there, right? He's one fine piece."

"Most definitely, but I heard he's gay."

Castiel couldn't help overhearing the conversation between the girls as he prepared to leave for home. He'd been hearing the gossip about the new guy in the warehouse with the nice ass and sexy lips for the last few weeks, and he'd caught glimpses of said ass and lips every day. It wasn't like he came in early or stayed late, or took his breaks in the courtyard just to catch those glimpses of Warehouse Guy. Nope....wasn't like that at all. He was definitely intrigued by the last bit of news, though.

"Hey, Jo, Meg... Wait for me. I'll walk down to the party with you," Castiel called to the girls, deciding that maybe a little office Christmas spirit was just what he needed. Not like there was any other reason at all.

~~~~~

Dean Winchester, full time warehouse manager for TranTech Wholesale, a computer parts supplier and distributor, really didn't want to be at the building's holiday party. As the warehouse manager, and part time guitar player/singer for his uncle Bobby's band, however, he was obligated. His uncle owned the building, and if anything was broken or misplaced during the party shenanigans, it would be his ass on the line with his uncle and his boss. He'd just been hired a couple of weeks prior, and he really couldn't afford to screw things up.

He adjusted his guitar as his friend, Fergus, sat down behind the drums and his uncle Bobby settled in behind the keyboards. He adjusted the microphone and the band began to play. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him as he strummed the chords. Music was his preferred way of communicating. Talking was usually overrated, but music soothed the soul. He began singing his favorite Christmas song, O Holy Night, as a group of already tipsy women swooned on the dance floor. Truth be told, he wasn't all that interested in any of the women he saw come and go from the building on a daily basis. Most of them were attractive enough, but there was one, very well-dressed and handsome man who wore a brown trench coat and ate lunch in the courtyard every day that just happened to catch his eye. He called him Trench Coat Guy.

~~~~~

The closer Castiel got to the warehouse, the more excited he was, after all. They were playing his absolute favorite Christmas song, and the singer's voice was beginning to override his misgivings about attending. Whoever was singing had the most rich and velvety voice, well-suited for rock music and just as well-suited, apparently, for holiday classics. He turned the corner and stepped onto the warehouse floor and felt like was transported into a winter wonderland. The large room had been decorated to feel like an outdoor nighttime winter scene, complete with fake snow, twinkling lights overhead, a walkway, snowmen and decorated trees. It was just like being in Central Park in winter. Mesmerized by the decorations and silently calculating how much the building manager must have spent on a decorator, Castiel made his way past the food and punch tables to the bar, where he noticed the band set up behind a makeshift dance floor. Time stopped, or at least it felt like it did to Castiel. It was as if everyone else had faded away and he was in front of the stage, alone, being serenaded by the most gorgeous man in the room. He had perfectly tousled hair, plump, pink lips, and adorable freckles across a beautifully sculpted nose and cheek bones. Castiel was rooted to the floor. The singer's eyes were closed, and when the song finished, he opened them to reveal their shining green depths, the color of the most pure absinthe. "Warehouse Guy," Castiel breathed.

~~~~~

As he finished the song, Dean opened his eyes and immediately locked them onto the man standing near the bar, watching the stage. _Trench Coat Guy._ His fingers faltered on the guitar strings as his eyes drank in the handsome, muscular figure in the fitted dark blue suit and tie. He carried his brown trench coat and briefcase, and had disheveled black hair, full, kissable lips, and the most piercing ocean blue eyes he'd ever seen. The band had just started their first set, so he had to get through five more songs before he could leave the stage.

~~~~~ 

"Folks," Dean announced to the crowd when the songs were over, "we're gonna take a short break. We'll be right back." He made his way to the bar, ordered a bourbon and Coke, and turned to Trenchcoat Guy, hand extended. "Dean Winchester. And you are...?"

Castiel felt like he couldn't catch his breath. He looked down at Warehouse Guy's - no, Dean's - hand, then back to his face. "Um..." He licked his lips, and saw Dean's eyes track the movement. Despite that being the sexiest thing he'd seen in a long time, Dean chuckled and grabbed Castiel's coat and briefcase from him and set them on a nearby table. He then picked up Castiel's right hand in both of his.

"Let's try this again," Dean said as Castiel finally responded by returning a firm, but tentative handshake. "I'm Dean. What's your name?"

"Castiel Novak. CPA with BCG. Top floor," he said quickly, his voice wavering.

"Well, Cas, can I call you Cas? I'd like to talk to you again after our next set. Will you still be around?" Dean smiled.

Castiel nodded, disarmed by the smile. He wasn't sure if he could trust his own voice again.

Dean was back on the stage when Meg and Jo came tripping drunkenly to the bar. "Well, I guess we know which team he bats for now, eh, Clarence?" She punched him playfully in the arm. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

Castiel hated Meg's nickname for him, but he'd let it slide this time. He had more important things to do. Like watch Warehouse Guy sing like an angel. He moved himself, and his and Dean's drinks, to the table his coat and briefcase were on, and settled in to watch the band. Dean sang all of the songs with his eyes closed, and it was the most beautiful thing Castiel had ever seen.

~~~~~

Around a half hour later, Dean sat down next to Castiel at the small table. He'd gotten them both a plate of finger foods, and had ordered new drinks. Castiel wasn't much of a drinker of hard liquor, preferring wine, but as long as Dean keep handing him bourbon and Coke, he'd keep drinking them. Dean hated talking, but something about this man made him want to talk, and listen, all night. "So, Cas. Tell me about yourself."

Castiel did tell him about himself, and he opened up like he'd never been able to with anyone else before. There was something about this guy, with his disarming smile, his honest and caring eyes and his easygoing nature. There was also the matter of the little touches of his fingers to his hand and arm, which were meant to be reassuring, when he came to difficult parts of his life like his parents' deaths or his strict childhood, or the brothers and sisters who were never really there for him. The compassion and care Dean showed to Castiel as he bared his soul had his head reeling. Or maybe that was the bourbon. Or both.

Dean did likewise, and found Castiel to be the best listener he'd ever known. His eyes were so expressive, and he had a way of cocking his head to the side, taking everything in and processing it, and offering small words of encouragement and support. Dean talked about his love for his brother and his distant, but loving father, his uncle, and the many people he owed his life to over the years. His childhood wasn't the easiest, his mom having died very young and his dad going a little scattered because of it, but he and his brother had turned out smart and tough, and well-prepared for life's challenges despite moving around constantly. The longer he and Castiel talked, the more he felt as if he'd met his soulmate.

"Cas," Dean said as he covered one of Castiel's hands with both of his own. "I've got another set to do. I'll be back, I promise. Don't go anywhere."

~~~~~

Castiel didn't move from his spot. They continued to talk, laugh, drink and eat for the better part of the night, between Dean's sets on stage. More than a few people from the building and especially Castiel's office, were watching and whispering. For a group of drunk people, though, Castiel noticed, they were pretty well behaved and respectful. After all, he knew quite a few people who had their own stories of hookups and walks of shame the next day, and would likely have them again with this party.

Nearing midnight, most of the people had already left, the food was gone, the bar was packing up, and the band was done playing. There were a few stragglers here and there, making out or talking shop or nursing the last of their drinks. Dean and Castiel were among those stragglers. Chairs now next to each other instead of across from one another, at the same table they'd been at all night, holding hands, heads together, they were deep in conversation and each other's eyes when the lights came on and the janitors began cleaning up.

"Well, Cas, I guess that's our cue to leave." Dean leaned back in his chair, and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, since the other one was still being held by Castiel. "I guess I'll see you on Monday?" Dean stood up to leave, and Castiel begrudgingly stood as well, grabbing his briefcase and shrugging on his coat.

"Can I at least see you to your car, Dean?"

"Sure," smiled Dean. "Just let me get my jacket and keys." They walked over to his office together, near the door Castiel had come in through earlier that evening. He went into his office and came back out with a thick, faded olive green Army coat with the collar sticking up awkwardly. Castiel smiled, and turned Dean to face him, gently fixing the collar, turning it up against his neck to protect him from the wind outside. They stood, staring at each other, until someone yelled from across the room, "You're under the mistletoe, ya idjits! Just kiss 'im already!"

Dean looked down sheepishly and smiled, his cheeks were burning hot. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby!" He yelled back. He and Castiel tilted their heads back to look up, and sure enough, there was the mistletoe. Their gazes landed on each other once again, and it was Castiel who went in for the kill. He grabbed Dean's collar and brought him forward to meet his own lips in a sweet, but eager kiss that left them both a little breathless.

"You know," said Castiel, making up his mind to admit to watching him. "Ever since you started working here, I've been trying to catch glimpses of you in the parking lot, using the first floor bathrooms... and eating lunch in the courtyard, just so I could watch the warehouse through the open bay doors, even though it's cold as hell outside." He smiled nervously.

Dean laughed, much to Castiel's delight. "I was wondering why you ate lunch outside in the cold." He fiddled with the lapel of Castiel's coat. "I have a confession to make, too. I've been watching you eat lunch every day... I wanted to invite you inside, to eat in my office, but I was too nervous."

It was Castiel's turn to laugh. "You? Nervous? You get up on stage and play a guitar and sing, Dean. You're the front man of a band, which is sexy as hell, by the way. I wouldn't figure you for being nervous."

"It's different with you, though." He took Castiel's face in his hand. "Singing comes easy. You're so handsome, and so out of my league. The only reason I talked to you tonight is because I already had a few drinks in me. Less nervous." He smiled.

Castiel leaned into Dean's touch and closed his eyes. "Take me home," he whispered, and Dean leaned in to kiss him, more passionately this time.

They walked out of the warehouse and into the cold night hand in hand, eyes never leaving each other, both extremely thankful for stupid, business holiday parties.


End file.
